Page 50 of Brutal

I squeeze my eyes shut and wait for the next splash of wax, but nothing comes.

“I did have a question for you.” Brutal trails his knuckles down my cheek. “This thing with your sister. How much is it worth to you?”

My eyes fly open. “What?”

“You want to know where she is, how she’s doing, blah blah blah.” He sets the candle aside. “What are you willing to do to find out?” His lips twitch into a smirk, and I realize the bastard already has the answers I want.

“I’m sitting still,” I say, wary. “I haven’t ruined your game.”

“Yeah, but maybe I want something more.” He slides his finger down my stomach, over the wax, then pauses right over my clit. “Maybe I want you to stay perfectly still while I pour that wax over a very, very sensitive part of your body before I fuck you senseless.”

I shudder, wanting to shake my head, but I want that information.

“Or maybe I just want you to behave during a very exclusive gathering I host in your honor.” He strokes my clit. I can’t tell which option he actually wants.

He’ll probably keep adding demands or changing his mind.

I squirm, closing my thighs around his fingers. The unwanted pleasure is making my breathing quicken.

“I can’t prevent either of those things,” I murmur.

“No,” Brutal agrees. “You can’t. But I think I’m a little more interested in your behavior around other people. Do you think you could play my mistress instead of acting like a whore?”

“If you can manage not to treat me like one,” I fire back without thinking.

He pinches my clit hard. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

I cry out and recoil away from him, but he doesn’t let up. I can’t believe just how much pain he’s causing with just this one little pinch.

Maybe I do prefer men who don’t even know where the clit is.

“I can… I can pretend—” I gasp out. “But everybody will know if you… if you treat me like…”

“If I treat you like what?” Brutal challenges me. “I can treat you however the fuck I want. It doesn’t matter. If I tell you to put on a cow bell and moo on the fucking ottoman, you’ll do it without a question. Because I guarantee you, whatever I’ve done to you so far, I can do better.”

I keep squirming, wrestling with the sensations of his fingers on my clit and the wax drying on my skin. “Then everybody will know you treat women like cows.”

“You have such a smart little mouth,” he growls. “Let’s put it to better use. Up. You know what to do.” He sits back, staring at me in that challenging way that lets me know he expects me to obey — quickly.

I sit up, grimacing when some of the wax cracks and flakes off me. I scoot to the edge of the bed and, without uttering another word, open my mouth for him.

He slides his sweatpants off, grabbing me by the hair and forcing me down before I even have the chance to move forward. “Oh, now you’re gonna be smart?” he asks. “What’s it gonna take for you to be smart all the time?”

I take a deep breath and focus on not choking.

Funny how he enjoyed me being smart during our little excursion. It’s less appealing to him when I’m turning that against him, apparently.

Not even against him. I’m simply pointing out the truth.

I start to wonder what kind of party he’s planning before internally chiding myself. It’ll be the kind where people don’t care how he treats women. The kind where everybody gets to join in on the fun.

I suck hard on his cock, then use my tongue to press along the thick vein underneath. I can feel him pulsing in my mouth, and he starts to make little grunting noises. He loosens his grasp on my hair by subtle degrees as he relaxes into the blowjob, but I can still feel his restlessness.

I wonder if he’s taken anything yet this morning.

He strokes my hair as I take more of him into my mouth. My tongue swirls around his cock, along the underside, and he groans as I give him what he wants. The diligent motions pay off, and for all that they’re dispassionate and rote, they still seem to give him what he wants… at first.

But before long, he pulls me off by my hair, scowling at me. “Put some feeling into it. Jesus.”

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